Night and Day
by lyraonyx
Summary: Shortly after accepting Dameon's proposal and just before facing Ahriman, Rhen discovers where both Dameon and Lars' loyalties really lie.


Rhen stared at the canopy of her four-poster bed, tired of chasing sleep and finding only more worries to keep her awake. Her lithe body warred with the luxurious blankets, but at present, only her head and hands had yet to disappear into the piles of silken fluff beneath her. The fine linens felt as foreign to her as this kingdom did. As alien as the band of sun crystal on her wedding finger. The ring chafed her calloused fingers and squeezed into the pads between them. In time, she supposed, she wouldn't notice it. The shape of her hand would conform to that band in the years to come, but for now, it pinched. She frowned at the ring and turned it over on her hand for the hundredth time that night; then she extricated herself from the myriad quilts and blankets the servants had pushed on her earlier that day.

She turned the ring over again as she stood and breathed deep. The summer air smelled of roses, from the courtyard just below Rhen's window. The fragrant flowers didn't quite mask the smell of ash from the blasted lands beyond the gates of Thais, however, and the faint, acrid odor of dark sorcery put her on edge. She needed her sword, even now. Rhen bumped her knee against the vanity before she had gone two paces, and stifled a curse as sharp pangs shot through her calf and thigh. She caught the vase of roses Damien had left her just in time and set it upright on the vanity table again. Pushing the pain aside, Rhen grabbed her sword from beside her bed and strapped it to her back. The blade rippled with ancient arcane magic, whistling a faint melody into the night air. The familiar weight and sound comforted her as she moved to the window, being careful to avoid further injury. Now was no time to be careless.

Rhen pressed her hands into the cool stone for a moment and gazed over the sleeping city. Darkness blanketed every castle window from her view, save one. Two doors down from her, Elini's light blazed bright into the darkness. Rhen's fingers inched to her sword as a male figure crept up and down in front of the light. She leaned onto the stone, prepared to rush to Elini's aid, even if that meant leaping out of a second story window. Then a familiar voice drifted from the room as the figure stopped and turned toward the light, and put Rhen's nerves at ease.

"Elini," came John's uncertain drawl, "yer a fine lass, and all, but I ain't playin' second fiddle ter nobody! And I sure ain't playin' _fourth_!"

"Second fiddle?" Elini's soft voice murmured. "What makes you think you would be second, John? I wish you as my primary… the king of my household, so to speak."

John hesitated. "Er… ye do?"

"Aye. Does that suit you?"

"Well… 'tis better than…" He paused. "Blast it woman! I ain't fallin' fer your tricks…"

Elini's giggle made Rhen smile. She knew he would indeed fall, eventually, if he were not already halfway there. John had a strong will, but he was no match for the Veldt woman overused to getting her way. In the end, Elini would have her new husband; Rhen had no doubt about that.

Husband… Rhen spun her ring again and pondered her situation while Elini sweet-talked John into submission.

_Why am I so calm about this? Shouldn't I be as giddy and excited as Te'Ijal? Even for… what she is, she can barely contain her happiness. I can't say the same for her new husband, but… Well, Galahad is getting used to the idea. I am proud of him. Te'Ijal trapped the poor man and cornered him into both marriage and existence as a creature of darkness, but he remains faithful. He complains, granted, but he never shirks his duty, and bears up well, considering. I should encourage him._

Rhen glanced at the sun crystal on her hand. _I should be thrilled to be engaged to Damien. But… I'm just… not. I feel… disappointed somehow. Uneasy. But Damien has been the picture of a perfect suitor… romantic, loving, attentive… _She thought of the gigantic vase of red roses Damien had brought her sprawling over her vanity table and crinkled her nose. What was the good of roses in times like this? It was a sweet gesture, but…

Rhen shook her head and smiled at the way her braid swished over her shoulder. The simple silver tie holding it in place drew her notice, and she played with the elastic for a moment. Lars may not have been the gentlest man in existence, certainly he lacked the poised tact of Damien, but no one could fault his sense. Damien's roses bewildered Rhen, but Lars' gift of a tie for her hair to replace a broken band, and a new cloak to cover her in colder climates was far more practical. He had stashed the pockets full of healing scrolls, too, and goodness knew she would need them in the days to come.

Rhen frowned as Lars' face impressed itself into her consciousness. His expression when Damien had announced their engagement… She shivered. The look in those golden-green eyes had haunted her all week. Lars, ever detached, gave no other outward sign of discomfort, maintaining the same collected, slightly forbidding aura as always, but his eyes belied his cool demeanor. The way they watched her all the time now, she could almost imagine he cared for her…

_Does he care for me? _Rhen paused at the thought. Then she burst into giggles. _Lars? Have feelings for me? The sun would sooner go around the moon!_ Her heart sank a bit at that realization, but it served to remind herself of the facts. Lars would never care for her; Damien did. Immensely so, if the size of the vase on her vanity was any indication.

Rhen, not one to dwell on her troubles, shook herself free of disappointment and turned away from the window. _Why am I thinking like this anyway? Maybe I'm just nervous. _John and Elini's laughter drifted into the room and made her smile. _I'm just being ridiculous. I'm going to take a walk and stop thinking such silly things. This is just pre-wedding jitters._

Comforted, Rhen tugged on a pair of pants and pulled her new cloak around herself. She tucked a dagger into her boot and shoved a few of Lars' scrolls in her pocket before walking out the heavy wooden door, using a bit of her sword magic to light the way.

The castle was a lonely place at three in the morning. Only the occasional gargoyle and the night watch paid her any heed as she traveled down the grand, but solemn hallways to the castle courtyard. Moonlight spilled onto the roses—most likely the origin of the ones on her vanity table—and onto a figure across the cobblestone square, one who hadn't been readily apparent from the second story. A tall, slender man sat hugging his knees on the other side of the fountain. A dark green cloak covered his face—buried in his knees—and trembling shoulders. Rhen's heart went out to him as she approached, making not a sound on the stone paths. She heard faint indrawn breaths as she came closer, hidden behind the sounds of the fountain. He was crying, this man, and trying not to be seen.

_Should I let him be?_ Rhen hesitated a few feet away. Then a soft, broken whimper in a voice she knew stilled her heart. All hesitation thrown aside, she plopped down on the fountain beside him and took the shocked young man into a gentle hug.

"Shh…Lars, it's okay."

"_R-Rhen_?" Lars' voice trembled with more than tears. "W-what… get off of me!" He snarled and pulled away from her, hastily wiping his face on his sleeve. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Trying to make you feel better," she sniffed. "You were crying."

He turned his back; Rhen could almost _hear _him blushing. "Hah! Shows what you know! I was just… uh… thinking of our plan of attack tomorrow."

Rhen's eyebrows lifted into her hairline. "Really? You suck at lying, Lars."

"You suck at everything else," he retorted, crossing his arms over his chest.

Rhen shrugged. "Suit yourself." She stood and turned to leave. "I'm going for a walk. Want to come with me, or would you prefer to sulk?"

"Hah… why would I want to come with _you_, Peta?"

Rhen paused a moment, and for once, allowed the hurt in her voice to show. "Because you have, since the beginning Lars, and I thought… maybe… you might want to be my friend."

His voice dripped with bitterness when he replied a long moment later. "Don't you have something to do with that simpering sun druid? Go walk with _him_."

Rhen sighed and crossed her arms over her waist as she left the courtyard. _But I want you to come… _It was no use. Lars wouldn't come anywhere with her now. Rhen had caught him in a rare moment of vulnerability—whether he would _ever _forgive her was anyone's guess.


End file.
